Another Sleepless Night
by Joywriter
Summary: A young Severus Snape sits by the lake, contemplating his terrible mistake. Contains Book 5 and 6 spoliers.


**Another Sleepless Night**

**A young Severus Snape sits by the lake and grieves over Lily Evans. (I am in the league of fans that are hoping Snape loves Lily, and maybe even have it be reciprocated.) Also contains thoughts on Snape's life as it is between books 5 and 6.**

**Contains Book 5 and 6 Spoilers.**

**Based on _Order of the Phoenix_, Chapter 28, "Snape's Worst Memory" and _Half-Blood Prince_, Chapter 2, "Spinner's End."**

The clouds above the horizon were scorched scarlet as the sun began to sink beyond the edge of the world. The leaves rustled in a still icy summer breeze that sent ripples across the expansive lake and shivers down his skin.

Snape pushed his hair away from his face. He was relieved to be the only one on the grounds that evening as the day before had been a complete fiasco, and undoubtedly, the worst day of his life. Once again, he found himself the subject of ridicule at the hands of James Potter and had since been forced to endure incessant pointing and raucous laughter from the other students. The story had circulated like wildfire, and even those who loathed James still found the episode rather entertaining. To compound his humiliation even further, Lily had been present.

He tortured himself by reliving the moment over and over in his mind, growing hot with a sickening twisting feeling and turning scarlet at the very thought of it.

But he was most troubled by his own words. Even in the madness of trying to defend himself, he had seen the expression that crossed Lily's face when he had called her a Mudblood. He saw anger. Revulsion. Betrayal. Hatred. And even though it pained him terribly, he couldn't let James find out about his secret friendship with Lily.

Professor Slughorn was having one of his end-of-term parties as Snape sat by the lake. He had shown up earlier in hopes of finding Lily there, in hopes of apologizing to her, to tell her that he had only said… what he said… because of the excruciatingly awkward and cruel circumstances in which he had found himself. And, of course, to protect her from the taunts she would undoubtedly get if anyone ever found out about them. So he denied her. And he wasn't proud of it.

He had sat alone in the far corner of the room for nearly an hour, waiting. Slughorn had come by a few times, encouraging him to "buck up" in view of the fact that exams were over before returning to a much happier, livelier crowd. But Lily never came, and he felt sick at the prospect that his presence was the reason why.

Snape mentally scolded himself as he angrily kicked the grass. How could he have been so stupid?

Gazing into the sunset, his vision unfocused by tears he didn't want to shed, he was certain that he had forever lost her friendship. She had comforted him through so much, as she alone knew about the neglect and abuse he suffered at the hands of his father, how his mother had never protected him, and a myriad of others secrets he harboured. He hated himself, knowing he alone was at fault for throwing it all away by a careless slip of the tongue. He could have said nothing. If only he had said nothing…

Snape ran his fingers through his ebony hair, feeling more alone and more lost than ever. Having never really been shown love, his feelings for Lily left him confused, yet oddly grateful that he could still feel anything good at all. But he had long ago learned that where there was desire, pain wasn't too far away.

_I'm still going to find her and tell her I'm sorry_, he resolved.

As the final streaks of crimson faded from the sky to be replaced by deepest cerulean, Snape vowed that never again would he hurt her. His feelings, and his understanding of them, however marred by his own experiences, were sufficient in purity and depth that he knew he could keep his promise.

He only hoped that he could make it up to her. He didn't expect forgiveness and he knew it was foolish to hope for her to return his affections after what he had done. He would never again demean her and should the need arise, he would protect her.

Snape rose from the cold ground and took one last look into the fading light. He was aware that his body felt heavier than normal, no doubt the weight of a new burden, yet he noticed a hollow sensation in his chest that had deepened since he had left Slughorn's party. Snape turned and trudged back to the castle with his head down, painfully aware of his breathing and the dull ache in his heart.

Four floors above him, Lily Evans peered down onto the ground below her. On her way back to the common room, she had passed by the window that overlooked the lake and noticed Snape near its edge in the distance. She didn't know how long she stood there, a minute, five… maybe ten… but she couldn't bring herself to look away. She wasn't sure why. She was filled with so many conflicting emotions when she looked at him now. She knew that Snape had been angry when he had called her that racial slur, but she couldn't deny that it had hurt. Looking down at the depressed form of Snape ambling across the grounds, she loathed James even more than she had the day before.

She had always felt sorry for Snape. Friendless. Horrible familial environment. Unpopular. Frequently the target of many cruel jokes and pranks, and slightly odd. She looked back with fondness on the first time they had talked during one of Slughorn's parties in their third year. Snape was highly intelligent – gifted, even – with natural aptitudes in so many areas, just like herself. They usually always talked during Slughorn's parties and had discovered that they seemed to get along really well for two people who appeared so different at first glance. Snape, knowing that their friendship would be best kept secret for her sake, insisted she keep it quiet as well.

She had so fully immersed herself in her memories that she soon found herself staring down at a dark empty expanse of lawn, and Snape was nowhere to be found. She turned from the window and decided to go to the dungeons to meet up with a few of her friends who had gone to Slughorn's party without her.

She entered the lower levels of the castle and shivered at the immediate change in temperature. Why did it always have to be so cold down here? She rubbed her bare arms in hopes of warming herself, but she completely forgot about the chill in the air when she turned the corner and saw Snape not more than twenty paces ahead of her. She stopped, but Snape had heard her footsteps and he turned around.

Their eyes met for a moment and neither moved nor spoke. Then slowly, Snape approached her. Part of him was afraid that she would storm away; part of him was just simply scared to death that she was so close.

Lily stood immobile with her arms crossed while she continued to absently rub her arms. Snape stopped about three feet in front of her as though to test whether or not she would flee. But she didn't. He inched a bit closer, raising his arms slightly. When she didn't frown or attempt to stop him, he slowly wrapped his arms around her and drew her in close to him. She closed her eyes and rested her cheek on Snape's chest as he held her. It was strange, it was a new sensation, it was totally unexpected for both of them, yet it was all he had hoped it would be. As he held her, he felt another strange emotion surface within him. This was the first time that he had held anyone, and the first time someone hadn't recoiled at his touch. An icy part of his soul melted in that moment and he felt joy.

If anyone passed them during those moments in the dark and cold dungeon, neither one of them noticed, nor did either of them care. Lily had forgotten that she was cold and wrapped her arms around Snape.

_Please,_ Snape pleaded wordlessly, _please let this moment last forever_.

Snape, being a head taller than Lily, rested his head atop hers and breathed in deep the sweet floral smell of her hair. He concentrated on memorizing the way she felt next to him so that he'd never lose this moment.

Time had lost all meaning. Slowly, she raised her head from his chest without letting go and looked up at him with her brilliant hazel eyes. Snape saw that they were filled with tears. His lip began to tremble as he whispered the words he wanted to say.

'I'm sorry, Lily. I'm so sorry.'

A single tear slid down Lily's cheek as she looked at Snape. Letting all his defenses fall, Snape too, began to cry. Lily pushed his hair behind his ears and wiped away his tears as more of her own began to spill onto Snape's robes. She stood on her toes and kissed each of his eyes. Lily lingered a moment and slowly pressed her lips to his.

It was at this moment that Snape wondered why he thought he was falling and flying at the same time. He felt like laughing and crying. But finally, after fifteen years of rejection, of self-doubt, of fear, he finally had what had always been denied him. He knew that he was loved.

When the moment ended he wondered if it had indeed happened. And before he could stop himself he said, 'I love you, Lily.'

But Lily said nothing. Her tears continued to stream down her face and Snape held her close. He hoped that his words would make her see that they could be together, that he wasn't a monster, that somewhere underneath his detached social ruse was a man – a little boy – who just wanted to love her and be loved by her in return.

Lily pulled away from him, her cheeks now flushed from tears that didn't seem to abate. At first Snape thought her tears were happy, but when she looked up, his heart sank. And finally, he understood. This wasn't a beginning. It was an ending.

'Why?" Lily asked through sobs that had begun to consume her.

Snape could feel his heart breaking all over again. He couldn't breathe. His chest was being crushed by a pain so intense that he thought he'd simply fall to the floor and never get back up. Why did he love her? What kind of question is that, anyway? He mentally fumbled for a reason, for words to express what he felt in just the right way, but no matter what he said, he knew he'd fall short.

'You're kind to me,' he began clumsily. 'You stood up for me out there. You… you never made me feel like I don't matter the way everyone else does…'

Lily dropped her gaze and was silent for a moment. Snape waited for an answer, his breathing shallow and sharp. 'I won't lie to you,' Lily said. 'I… I do love you… but it would just never work.'

Snape's thoughts seem to have jammed when he heard those words. She did, in fact, just admit that she loved him. Snape's eyes bore into hers. '… So why wouldn't it work?' he asked, fighting to hold back a torrent of emotion that left him nauseated.

'We're just too different. Too young. Too… I don't know,' Lily said as she raised a hand to hide her eyes. To see her upset like this made Snape's heart ache and he once again took her in his arms.

'Don't say that,' he pleaded soothingly, stroking her flaming red hair. 'Let me love you. I promise, I'll never hurt you again. Please don't leave me.'

'I'll always be here for you, Severus. I promise. But for now, that's all we can be.' Lily suddenly put both hands behind her neck and fumbled with the clasp on her necklace. She removed it and placed it in Snape's hand. 'Take this. Remember it when you feel that you're alone and no one loves you. Remember that I do.'

Snape broke his gaze with Lily to look at her gift. A thin chain with a small silver 'L' shaped pendent entwined around a white lily. Lily closed her eyes and kissed him once more before slowly backing away and disappearing around the corner, leaving Snape dumbfounded, broken hearted, and alone in the icy corridor.

Snape pulled himself out of his Pensieve and strode over to the window of the rundown shack he called home. The snow blew angrily outside his window, obscuring his view of the empty street. He wasn't quite sure what he believed he would gain by returning to that day over and over again, but still, he relived those few brief moments as though to be certain that they had, indeed, happened.

Twenty years had passed since then. Twenty years of regret and self-loathing. He constantly tormented himself by going back through the memory and pinpointing what he would change, what he'd do differently, what he'd say differently. He never would have let her walk away from him that day. He would have gone after her.

Not that any of it mattered now…

Their sixth year had passed much the way his other years had – Lily and Snape had kept their friendship a secret, barely acknowledging each other outside classes. He had been hoping to return to his seventh year at Hogwarts and resume his friendship with Lily, but even before the start of term feast he had learned that James and Lily had gotten together over the summer. She would catch his gaze during classes or in the hallways and she would always look at him as though she was being torn apart. James was the same age as he was, and Lily had told him that they were too young, a mystery he never fully understood even now. James didn't taunt him anymore and make a public display of it, but he would have rather been humiliated routinely than to see him with Lily everyday. He never believed he could feel any worse. So, in a moment of pure anger and recklessness, he sought relief, an outlet for his hatred, and joined the Death Eaters before ever leaving school.

It was a decision he knew he could live with. Although initiation was brutal and the goings-on of the Death Eaters were even more horrible than he could have imagined, he knew he'd only waste away in his father's house if he wasn't here, and life without Lily would have been even more unbearable had he not been preoccupied by being in fear for his life most of the time.

Snape continued to stare out the window but didn't really see anything. He was vaguely aware of his reflection, and was aware of the tears that would soon mar his lined face. He hated the next part of the story. He hated even thinking about it, but he was powerless to stop it. As though he hadn't been punished enough, fate wasn't through with him yet. Voldemort had assigned him a special task – to meet with Albus Dumbledore at the Hog's Head one gloomy night in October and request to be employed at Hogwarts. Voldemort needed a spy within his enemy's walls, and who better than Snape, who could be as obsequious as the task would call for?

But he had overheard something terrible that night. Something he wished he had never heard. And he did something he wished he had never done.

Even today, Snape's insides still ached when he thought about it. It had never even occurred to him that James and Lily would be targeted. Of all people, why the Potters? It never occurred to him that by telling Voldemort what he had overheard, he had yet again broken his promise to Lily, one he swore he'd keep. It was one of the last things he had ever said to her – _'I'll never hurt you again.' _

But he more than hurt her. He was the reason she was dead. He had caused the death of the only person who had ever loved him.

She was such a kind person who deserved far better than James Potter, and as far as Snape was concerned, he wasn't sorry to see James dead. But despite the total sense of loss that her death impressed upon him, Snape admired her for the selfless act of giving her life to save her son. That was the Lily he loved, and really, he would have expected no less from her.

But he hated Harry. When he looked at him all he could see was James, the man who tortured him for his own amusement, a useless excuse for a child who hadn't even inherited a shred of Lily's brilliance. It made him almost sick to think it, but there had been times when he looked past the James in Harry and saw his mother – the beautiful, gentle woman who made him feel human, feel… _loved_… Harry's eyes…

Snape closed his eyes and rubbed his forehead. When would it all end? He had resigned himself to the fact that he would always be haunted by memories of Lily, haunted by what might have been… but this war needed to end. He was tired of playing on both sides of the fence. He was tired of always having to put up such fronts when, in fact, he just wanted to be Severus Snape – the Severus Snape that Lily had seen behind the awkward youth everyone else had seen.

Snape turned away from the window and wiped his eyes. He removed from his robe the necklace Lily had given to him and turned it over in his hands before placing it back in his pocket. Seating himself in a large winged chair that was showing signs of age, he closed his eyes and allowed his thoughts to drift to recent days. Dumbledore had a plan, Snape knew. They had been discussing it for quite some time, and with all the information he now had, Snape had deduced that he would have to once again make a life altering choice. But he couldn't let his feelings get in the way. There are things that are more important than feelings. It was all a means to an end.

Dumbledore had taken him under his wing and loved him like a son from the first day he arrived on Hogwarts' doorstep, which was more than could be said for his own father. If he was lost when he was young, he was beyond rescue now. Narcissa and Bellatrix had called on him the day before, and now he was certain that Dumbledore had been right all along.

Snape rubbed his eyes and yawned. Forcing himself to stand up, he trudged to the window again. He knew there was no point in going to bed. When his thoughts drifted like this, as they often did these days, sleep was impossible. He put on his traveling cloak and gloves before stepping onto the cracked concrete that was his front step. The snow continued to rush by in icy waves, but he didn't care. He needed to find Dumbledore. He needed to know what they were going to do now that his life was in even more danger now.

Closing the door behind him, Snape stepped into the storm and disappeared into the night.


End file.
